


Hunger

by Silverwing26, soulless_lover



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Blood Play, M/M, Parlour Sex, Podfic Available, Podfic Length: 0-10 Minutes, Seriously Wear Headphones, Shota, hungry demon is hungry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 03:12:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6267259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverwing26/pseuds/Silverwing26, https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulless_lover/pseuds/soulless_lover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are all empty meals. They have always been. I am a creature, I am the darkness in the shadows, I am a hunter and a deceiver. I am beautiful and terrifying. I am every treacherous thought, and every deviant impulse. I am the carnal desires you cannot control and the violent urges you cannot explain... and I am starving.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <b>UPDATE 3/18/16: There is now a podfic of hunger! Find it <a href="http://tindeck.com/listen/htunq">here</a>!</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> Special thank you to Soulless_lover for editing my work - the result of which is always better than what I started with. 
> 
>  
> 
> _[podfic note: it's been forever since my last podfic, so please forgive my editing errors and occasional accent fail; also... you should probably wear headphones. ^^;;; - soulless_lover]_

_I hunger._

 

Every fiber of my being calls out for him. The very sinew that holds this facsimile of a human form together aches and vibrates and stretches to its limit. I am spread thin, like the black currant jam over his morning toast.

 

I am standing there, a shadow behind his chair, as he speaks with Funtom’s investors; the silver teapot clutched in my hand is weightless, and I am detached as I watch the tea pour from the spout and splash, rich and dark, against the side of the china cup. I see it, and I hold the inconsequential weight of it in my hand... but I feel nothing.

 

Perhaps that isn’t entirely true; _he_ is there, sitting in the chair before me, a bright little ember burning through the haze that surrounds him. My eyes glow faintly, and my lids are downcast to hide this from his guest, but even as I chance a look at him through my lowered lashes, I am nearly blinded by his radiance; his soul burns brightly, twisting in on itself with the despair he can never fully shake.

 

_I hunger._

 

My mouth waters and the endless pit of darkness within me calls for his sacrifice; it is not the only thing calling, however. He feels my eyes on him and, knowing my small master, he must sense my teeth growing long in my jaw, throbbing in sync with the pulse behind his eye. He glances at me over the back of his chair for a moment - and when my empty, slitted pupils catch his single, curiously sparkling eye, he smirks at me.

 

The wretched little creature knows me far too well, and I softly chuckle so that only he might hear me; his brow arches slightly as he turns back to the man who has come to beg his favour, to take advantage of his age and his position, to make a fool of him and feed him to the proverbial dogs... were that not such an empty meal.

 

But it is. They are all empty meals. They have always been. I am a creature, I am the darkness in the shadows, I am a hunter and a deceiver. I am beautiful and terrifying. I am every treacherous thought, and every deviant impulse. I am the carnal desires you cannot control and the violent urges you cannot explain... and I am starving.

 

 _I_ **_hunger._ **

 

I have shown his visitor to the door, and I cannot help but chuckle to myself at his defeated stance and his palpable irritation. The Earl of Phantomhive is not to be trifled with, and it gives me an odd sort of pleasure to watch my small master tear into his prey with such zeal - he’d make a fine imp, truly living up to the name I have given him in the sweating dark. The way his eyes glitter and his lips curl at the corners before he moves in for the kill - sometimes elegantly and subtle with soft words and deadly contracts, and sometimes with the fervor of a killer enjoying his first conquest - he can be a bit sloppy, yes; bloody, indeed; but with the excitement only a fledgling can possess… and when my Young Master’s childlike face breaks into a rare smile as he chokes his enemies on steel and black powder - ah, it almost _warms_ my black heart.

 

I quite suddenly find I am barely able to contain my arousal, and he is in my arms and beneath my body before I even consider carrying him to his rooms; the house is finally empty save for the two of us, and his cries echoing off the parlour walls find no one to scandalize.

 

“Sebastian!” he calls, and his tiny nails dig bleeding crescents into my shoulders; I am thrusting into him so roughly that the chaise is creaking and rocking into the wall behind us, and in a voice full of sweetness and cruelty, he asks:  “Are you hungry, my beast?”

 

I am unable to answer him. My eyes meet his; growling, I kiss him so deeply that the breath is stolen from his lungs, and when he pushes me away, he is panting and calling me scandalous names in every language I have taught him… But even as he chides me, his inner muscles grip my shaft, his small hips rock hard against me, and I lick my lips, savoring the exquisite flavour of _him_ \- which has been delightfully enhanced by his aroused irritation.

 

“You don’t deserve this. Bad dog!” he says, but my hand wraps around his small, dripping cock, and I stroke him with the same fevered pitch at which I am fucking him.

 

“Nng...” he groans, and his tongue slides between his soft lips. “Go on then,” he says, and I can see drops of blood welling up where he has bitten it; my entire body reacts to his offering, and I can feel the arousal racing beneath my skin. My cock, already thick and heavy, aches and twitches deep inside of him.

 

Sucking this rare gift from his tongue nearly makes me spend, and I lift him into my arms; his small legs wrap tightly about my body, and he pants and moans as he slides himself further down my shaft, ensuring I fuck him thoroughly as I swallow his cries.

 

When he spends, it is a violent, shuddering thing, splattering my open trousers with hot droplets, and when he finally pulls away from me, he bites my lip hard enough in return to break skin; I growl against his tiny sharp teeth and spend, squeezed by his welcoming sheath, throbbing so hard that my little imp shivers all over, then falls lax and breathless beneath me.

 

“Do you feel better?” he asks me a short time later, when I’ve cleaned him up and seen to our attire; he sits on the chaise with a cup of tea in his hand, and I offer him a biscuit, giving him a perfectly human smile.

 

“Yes, quite well. Thank you, Young Master.” I place the teapot back on the tray - it has a familiar weight to it, and I can see its brilliant silver shine as the light from the window hits it. “Quite well indeed.”

 

_I hunger…_

 

But I always shall. I hungered for this brilliant, desperate soul before I even knew what had awoken me from the darkness in which I slumbered. But I am a patient devil, and so I shall be content... for a while longer.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> An additional special thanks to Soulless_lover for performing, creating, and editing the podfic together for me. He's amazing. Listen to it. I am ever so impressed with his talent as Sebastian's voice reaches even deeper than before to give the starving, hungering demon the deep growl he ought to have. Thank you.


End file.
